The Raichand war room was not built for tears.
It was built for crisis.
And yet—
That night, it held something heavier than strategy.
Avni stood at the centre of the room.
No trembling daughter.
No fragile exile.
Just a woman who had survived.
"I was two months pregnant," she began quietly.
No one interrupted.
The silence was disciplined.
"When Savita Ahir ordered me out, I believed it was temporary."
Her eyes hardened.
"It was not."
Aryan's hands tightened slowly on the table.
"They separated my children."
That landed differently.
Devendra leaned forward.
"How?"
"I don't know."
That uncertainty was worse than anger.
"They used relocation as a pretence. Schooling. Protection. Discipline."
Her jaw tightened.
"And I was removed before I could track where they were sent."
Savitri's voice was low.
"Your husband?"
"Raghav tried to follow. He was silenced."
"How?" Arjun asked sharply.
"Accident."
The word hung heavily.
Devendra's expression shifted.
"Intentional?"
"I don't know."
But the implication was clear.
Too many "accidents".
Too much timing.
Mukul stood quietly beside her.
He wasn't reacting emotionally.
He was mapping connections.
After exile.
Moreau extraction.
Board manipulation.
Patterns were forming.
Avni continued.
"I wandered for months. I remembered nothing of you. I remembered only survival."
Her voice steadied.
"And when Mukul was born, I stopped being afraid."
She looked directly at Aryan.
"I survived for him."
The room absorbed that truth.
Then her tone changed.
Colder.
"Until I find my children… and hear the truth from Savita Ahir herself… I will not step inside the Ahir estate again."
That was not a plea.
It was a declaration.
Reyansh Raichand broke the silence.
"This complicates things."
Arjun turned sharply.
"She was wronged."
"Yes," Reyansh replied calmly, "but the Ahir family is politically aligned with three of our international trade blocs."
Now the real tension surfaced.
Business.
Alliance.
Power.
Devendra exhaled slowly.
"So you suggest we ignore it?"
"I suggest we approach it strategically."
Savitri's voice was iron.
"No one ignores what was done to her."
But the internal fracture widened.
This was no longer only about Moreau.
Now it involved India's political elite.
The Ahirs were not powerless.
They were influential.
Respected.
Connected.
Aryan looked at Avni.
"Do you want retribution?"
She met his gaze steadily.
"I want truth."
Pause.
"And my children."
Devendra nodded once.
"Then we investigate quietly."
Kabir Rathore, who had remained silent until now, spoke.
"You're underestimating one thing."
All eyes turned.
"The Ahir expulsion may not have been isolated."
Aryan narrowed his eyes.
"Meaning?"
Kabir's tone remained calm.
"What if your daughter's removal from Europe and her removal from the Ahir estate were not separate events?"
The room went still.
That possibility had not been voiced.
But it had been felt.
Devendra leaned back slowly.
"You're suggesting coordination."
Kabir didn't answer directly.
"Timing overlaps."
Aryan's face hardened.
"If someone orchestrated both…"
Savitri finished quietly:
"Then Avni was never just collateral."
She was the target.
Across the ocean—
Victor Moreau reviewed financial damage reports.
"Raichands are expanding pressure to Asia," Lucas reported.
Victor's eyes sharpened.
"On whom?"
"Indirect leverage through Ahir-linked holdings."
Victor smiled faintly.
"So they've connected the threads."
Lucas hesitated.
"Should we escalate?"
Victor's voice lowered.
"No."
Pause.
"Let the Ahirs feel the pressure first."
Divide the houses.
Classic strategy.
Back in Lucerne—
Riaan entered the war room.
"We've begun a discreet background investigation on the Ahir separation."
Arjun looked at him sharply.
"And?"
"Several relocation orders were signed the same week Avni was expelled."
Devendra's eyes darkened.
"By whom?"
"Savita Ahir."
No surprise.
But confirmation solidified anger into structure.
Avni stood still through all of it.
Then she spoke again.
"I don't want you to destroy them."
The room turned.
Aryan blinked.
"What?"
"I want answers first."
Mukul glanced at her.
That was important.
Restraint.
Not revenge.
Later that night—
On the terrace overlooking Lake Lucerne—
Mukul stood beside Devendra.
"You're thinking," Devendra said.
"Yes."
"What?"
"If someone moved her twice," Mukul said quietly, "then someone benefits from distance."
Devendra looked at him carefully.
"You think strategically."
"I listen."
Devendra nodded slowly.
"Good."
Mukul's gaze shifted toward the dark water.
"If her other children are leverage…"
Devendra's expression hardened.
"Then we find them before someone else does."
That was when the board shifted fully.
The search for Avni's lost children officially began.
Not emotional.
Operational.
In Mumbai—
Savita Ahir received a confidential message.
European markets had begun reviewing Ahir-linked holdings.
She read it slowly.
Then called someone.
"You promised this would stay buried."
Silence on the other end.
Victor Moreau's voice responded calmly.
"Everything buried resurfaces eventually."
Savita's grip tightened.
"This was not the agreement."
Victor's tone cooled.
"Then adapt."
Call ended.
Savita stared at the dark window.
For the first time—
She looked uneasy.
Back in Switzerland—
Avni stood alone in her restored bedroom.
She touched the bracelet on her desk.
"I'm coming for them," she whispered.
Not as a threat.
As promised.
Mukul stood in the hallway outside.
He felt the shift.
Not pressure.
Not surveillance.
Alignment.
Pieces connecting.
The House of Raichand–Malhotra had accepted him.
Now they were mobilising.
But this time—
Not for inheritance.
Not for power.
For family.
And that—
Was more dangerous.